


Getaway

by empressventure



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26266645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empressventure/pseuds/empressventure
Summary: Hi this is just a short little story about meeting a ghost and having a not very fun time!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Getaway

I just knew I had to get away.

It was… humiliating, to say the least. I’d made such a display over the last few months, going on and on about how perfect he was for me. And then he does this? How are you supposed to tell your friends that your soulmate dumped you over text, days after suggesting you move in? It was hard enough telling them, but now everyone I know seems to look at me with such pity. It’s unbearable. 

So I had to get away. Away from the prying eyes and the ‘so sorry’s and the embarrassment of it all. Somewhere rural, I decided, was the place to go. A little cottage bed and breakfast in the countryside, with a thatched roof and a window box filled with flowers. It seemed to me that nothing could be more perfect. So I booked a bed in the first place I found, a cosy looking place not too far away. 

Unfortunately for me, the place was easier to find online than in person. I found the village easily enough, but drove around for almost an hour looking for the cottage. Resigned to asking for help, I decided that the pub would be my best option. I entered through the heavy doors, with the familiar tang of stale beer and pub carpet filling my nostrils, and made a beeline for the bar. Waiting for the bartender to finish pulling pints, I rested my elbows on the counter, an action I immediately regretted. I was in the middle of wiping the sticky residue off my arms when the bartender came over to me. 

‘Can I help you?’ she asked, with the look of a woman who couldn’t wait for her shift to end. 

‘Hi! Yes,’ I stammered, ‘I’m looking for The Peacock? The B and B? I’ve been driving round for ages and I just can’t seem to find it.’ 

She pursed her lips and looked me up and down.

‘You staying there?’ she asked. 

‘...yes? Hopefully!’ I tried to laugh off the nervousness, but the way she was squinting at me really wasn’t helping. 

‘Okay… so there’s a little dirt road that heads out the village, just that way,’ she gestured with her hand. ‘Follow it down and you’ll find the place.’ 

‘Thank you so much! Have a great night!’ I said, turning to go. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the bartender move as if she were about to say something too, but she said nothing, and I walked out of the pub without another word. 

* * *

The cottage looked nothing like it had done on the website. Maybe it was the dull weather, especially now that the sun had almost set, but the cottage seemed plain and grey compared to what I had envisioned on my drive over. There were no flowers in the window boxes, only those roses in the garden. Tentatively, I knocked on the front door. An older woman appeared almost immediately, mug of tea in hand.

‘Um, hi… I’ve got a booking for tonight? This is the Peacock right?’ 

She nodded almost too vigorously, taking a step back from the door to let me in.

‘Yes, yes, come in dear! I’ll show you to your room.’ 

The informality startled me, she hadn’t even confirmed my name, or address, or anything, but it was getting late and my tiredness was getting the better of me, even if I was beginning to regret my impulsive trip. 

The woman showed me to a small room on the ground floor, furnished with a double bed with garish floral sheets, an imposing wardrobe, and a threadbare rug. 

‘You’ve got the bathroom through there,’ she said, gesturing to a door, ‘and here’s your key. Will you be wanting dinner tonight?’ 

‘Oh no thank you, I’ve already eaten!’ 

‘Well then, if you need anything I’ll be down the hall, enjoy your stay.’ 

After she had left, the room seemed even gloomier, but perhaps that was just the lighting. I dug out a battered book from my bag, flicked on the bedside lamp, and settled in to read. Before I knew it, the sun had set completely and I felt exhaustion creep up on me. I dragged myself and my washbag to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and wiped my face with a damp cloth. The face looking back at me from the bathroom mirror was barely recognisable. Dark bags hung under my eyes, which were still a little bloodshot from days of crying and lack of good quality sleep, and the skin around my nose was dry and cracked from the abundance of tissues I’d used up. I sighed. 

Abruptly, a flash of movement caught my eye. Something behind me in the mirror. I turned around, heart suddenly pounding. An absurdly fat pigeon stared back at me through the bedroom window, looking just as startled as I felt. I cursed myself for being so jumpy, and felt slightly guilty for being on edge. The lady who’d let me in seemed perfectly sweet, and it was just the weather that made the place look so miserable, wasn’t it? 

I’d brought a book with me to pass the time, and decided that I’d read a little to calm my nerves, so I settled into the not entirely comfortable bed and began to read from where I’d left off, probably several months ago now. Maybe an hour in, I heard a noise. A sad, anguished noise. A woman sobbing. I thought about ignoring it, but something about her cries tugged on my heartstrings. Maybe it was just the urge to help a fellow woman in need. I swung myself out of bed and made my way out into the corridor, the wood cold and smooth under my feet, and knocked on the door next to mine. There was no response, and the crying continued. 

‘Hello?’ I called, tentatively, ‘Are you okay in there?’ 

From down the hall, I heard a door open. I turned around to see the bleary-eyed landlady, staring at me, clearly confused. 

‘What’s the matter dear? Did you need me for something?’ She asked. 

I blanked for a beat, momentarily embarrassed to have disturbed her, ‘Oh no, I just wanted to make sure the lady next door was alright, you must have heard her too, right?’ 

The old lady looked at me, her brow furrowed with concern, and turning slightly pale, ‘Are you sure nothing’s the matter, dear? You’re the only guest here tonight.’

‘No, no - I heard a lady crying in there, honestly!’ I protested. 

‘Oh, I see. Well we have foxes and allsorts round here, they make such awful noises. Don’t fret, you’re not the first person to make the mistake.’ 

‘Yeah,’ I nodded, tentatively, ‘That must have been it. I’m so sorry to have woken you.’ 

‘Not at all, dear. And if you need me, just give  _ my _ door a knock,’ she said, seeming pleased with her comment, and took herself back to bed. 

I decided to do the same, but couldn’t bring myself to focus on my book after what had just happened. After probably too long huddled up in the bedsheets with the bedside lamp still on, I finally plucked up the courage to switch it off, plunging the room into complete darkness. I tried to relax. Deep breathing. I wasn’t scared, mind you. Just… unsettled. A fox has no right to go about sounding so much like a human woman, I thought to myself. After a while, the breathing worked and I felt myself drift off into sleep. 

I have no idea how long I actually managed to sleep for, but it can’t have been long. I was awoken from my dreaming by a loud, piercing scream. Shooting upright, I flung the sheets off me and all but ran to the window. I glanced around, searching for any sign of what could have made that awful noise. Finally, I caught a glimpse of the undergrowth rustling, and a bushy red tail. Bloody foxes. I could almost laugh at myself. A grown adult, afraid of some little fox? I felt the fatigue hit me again as the adrenaline dissipated, and crawled back into bed. 

It seemed almost comfier now, but maybe that was just because I was so exhausted. Relaxing into the pillow, I felt myself drift off again… until I heard it again. Those same, choked sobs as before, but different now. Closer. I barely had time to react to this before the screams started, right behind my head, a wailing like an animal, but certainly not a fox. I’m not ashamed to say that I bolted. This was just too much. I got up, and I bolted out of the door, out of the cottage and onto the driveway, the gravel digging painfully into my bare feet. I was almost at my car when I realised my mistake. My coat was inside, with my car keys and my purse safely stowed in the pockets. Not to mention my suitcase, although I can’t honestly say I was too fussed about leaving my old supermarket t-shirts and jeans. 

Oh god, I was going to have to go back inside. Shit. I was on the brink of tears now, and had to bite my lip to keep from sobbing, but I needed to go back inside. I want to say I ran in, ran out, but I didn’t. I crept. I just didn’t have the will to run towards whatever was happening. The door to my room was still open, and I could hear that noise all the way down the corridor. I finally made it to the door and slipped inside, and what I saw horrified me. There was a woman on the floor. She wore an old fashioned night dress, and her body was wracked with sobs. I watched, transfixed for a moment, as she beat the floor with her fists. Then, she turned her head to face me, and my blood ran cold. Then I ran, I grabbed my coat and I ran. I didn’t stop until I reached my car and I didn’t care that I had no shoes, no clothes, no suitcase. Reversing off the driveway, I saw her, staring out of the bedroom window. Still crying. 

I kept driving until I was home. 

I just knew I had to get away. 


End file.
